


Monster in the Labyrinth

by Thranduils_Bossy_Elk



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Poor Will, Rough Sex, as usual, dark hannigram, dub con, hannibal is comforting yet terrible, the stag appears briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduils_Bossy_Elk/pseuds/Thranduils_Bossy_Elk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the 2013 Hannigram Secret Santa!  </p><p>Will comes over to Hannibal's house feeling weak.  Hannibal is a source of comfort until things turn around and Will is being hunted not just physically, but emotionally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster in the Labyrinth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luvkurai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvkurai/gifts).



> I hope you like!!! Wheee Hannigram 5eva

 

“Will, are you alright?”

 Doctor Lecter’s voice is soothing.  Will pushes his glasses up and tries to blink away the fog in his mind.  

 “I’m, ahm, feeling a little lost,” Will says quietly, “. . .confused. . .”

 The walls of Hannibal’s study are awash with flickering orange lights from the fireplace.  Will stands facing the fire with Hannibal at his back.  

 “Do you remember how you got here?”

 Will rubs his temples, a little too hard.  His jaw is trembling.

 “No.”

 Hannibal’s shadow on the wall grows larger as he slowly approaches Will, head slightly to one side.  Will can’t deal with eye contact right now and keeps his face resolutely towards the fire.  He feels stupid for showing up at Hannibal’s house yet again in the middle of the night.  The entire house had been dark when he arrived, and they hadn’t bothered turning any on as they made their way to Hannibal’s study.  

 As if sensing his thoughts, Hannibal slithers close behind Will and murmurs:

 “Will, my house is a sanctuary for you.  This is completely fine, that you come here.” His eyes travel slowly over Will’s back, taking in the old shirt and threadbare sweater.  “Never feel bad for coming to me.”

 Will is breathing hard now, his lips shaking.  

  _“Why am I so crazy.”_

 “You are not crazy, Will.  Just a little lost.”

 Will gives a small, bitter laugh.  

 “If you have one fault, Doctor Lecter, it’s that you’re too generous when it comes to describing my mental state.”

 Hannibal smiles at this.

 Smoothly, he places a grounding hand on Will’s shoulder and gently turns him around.  

 “I will always be here to indulge that fault.”

 Will can’t describe this feeling that being near Hannibal gives him.  He’s still wavering on the edges of time loss, but with Hannibal as his guide he knows he can clamber back to some sense of normality.

 He also can’t help but notice also how good Hannibal’s touch feels.  It’s strong and warm.  Hesitantly, his eyes going half-lidded, he leans into the touch so that their sides are pressed together.  Will blushes despite himself, feeling exposed yet safe.

 Without preamble and without embarrassment, Hannibal pulls Will into a full embrace.

 Will breathes out, tears almost welling in his eyes because of how perfect this feels.  He knows that Hannibal’s a man, and guys didn’t do this, but at the moment he doesn’t care at all.  His arms hesitantly slide around Hannibal’s waist and rest against his back.  The material of his suit is soft and substantial.  

 Hannibal’s voice rumbles in his chest as he says:

 “It’s half past midnight, you’re in Baltimore, Maryland, and your name is Will Graham.”

 Will feels the lightest possible touch of lips on his forehead; Hannibal has kissed him.

 Will looks up, trustingly, his fogged mind sending him signals that it’s ok to look at those fascinating lips, maybe even to touch them back with his own---

 

\---and suddenly _there it is_.  The gaunt, antlered, charcoal creature from his nightmares.  Above him, where Hannibal’s lips should be.  

 

 With a horrified exhale, Will tries to break free of Hannibal’s embrace but can’t.  The other man is incredibly strong and holds Will to him, breathing in Will’s scent, somehow robbing him of it in the process.  Will tries desperately to summon whatever scrap of fight he has in him and pushes Hannibal away, hard.  Hannibal steadies himself with his back against the stone fireplace, and in that instant Will bolts for the door.  A smile gently illuminates Hannibal’s face, at odds with the angular shadows and predatory movements of his muscular body.

Will stumbles over the edge of a carpet as he gains the hallway, going down on his knees hard.  His heart beats wildly as black spots dance in front of his eyes and his own breath is too loud in his ears.  The soft tread of footsteps follows him inexorably. 

Hannibal’s eyes close lazily to half mast as he surveys Will.  The tousled brown hair is plastered to the younger man’s forehead with sweat and his limbs are shivering.  

 Some part of Will understands that he is being hunted, but another part of him desperately wants to retreat to the safety of Hannibal’s arms, the one spot he know he can be enveloped and protected even if it means giving in.  

 The moment Will struggles to his feet, Hannibal is there behind him, driving him hard against the wall of the darkened hallway with a soundless rush of heat and air.  The only light comes from the flickering fire in the study, and even though its illumination doesn’t reach far it still manages to reach Hannibal’s eyes and dance redly there.  Will squirms, struggling to face Hannibal but the taller man is resolute.  He pins Will wordlessly from the back, holding his wrists flat against the wallpapered surface and slowly lowering his mouth to Will’s neck.  Will lets out a small noise when he feels the warm wetness of Hannibal’s mouth on his skin, and renews his struggles.  Hannibal responds by grinding his hips into Will’s and holding him in place that way, not letting him move as he works his mouth on Will’s neck and jaw.

 “S-stop,” Will pants harshly, his glasses slipping, “W-what---stop!”

 Will feels, rather than sees, Hannibal smile against his skin.  The taller man keeps kissing hard at his neck and now Will feels the sharp touch of teeth in addition to lips.  He stops struggling at that, completely afraid that Hannibal will consume him whole if he struggles too much.

 Will’s glasses slip further askew on his face as Hannibal works his way down Will’s neck to the crook of his shoulder.  Just as Hannibal’s hands let go of Will’s wrists and drop to his hips Will pushes hard back against him.  It’s not enough.  Hannibal lets out a low laugh, the first sound he’s made, and it tickles the back of Will’s neck in the most intimate, terrifying way possible.  Will feels his resolve weakening, he moans into the laugh.  Just as quickly though, a surge of clarity returns to him and he lunges backwards with all his fevered strength and manages to shove Hannibal away and against the opposite wall of the narrow hallway.

 Will gathers himself and breaks into a run, his head pounding worse than ever.  Where was the door? God, why couldn’t he remember!  

 Footsteps behind him make him break out in a sweat.  The cloudiness brought on by the fever and loss of time is returning.  What’s chasing him again?  Will senses a presence following him as he tears through the dark house, stumbling over furniture.  A staircase looms suddenly out of the dark and he climbs quickly, clutching the bannister for much-needed support.  His neck still throbs and he remembers the feeling of teeth there.  

Will gains the top of the staircase, three steps away from the top when he stumbles again, the darkness so complete he’s unable to see more than a few inches in front of him.  He reaches out blindly for the bannister and his hand closes around something solid.

 

Something warm.

 

Will snatches his hand back, breathing hard.  He’d grasped a leg, the feeling of expensive trouser material still on his fingers.  Hands reach down solicitously and help him up but he fights back weakly.  He smells something good, a spicily exotic yet masculine scent.  

 

_Hannibal._

 

With a thrill of horror, Will fists his hands into Hannibal’s shirt, both fighting him and pulling him closer now.  He's almost sick with the thought that Hannibal had been right next to him on the stairs, watching his pathetic stumbling and clinging.  His legs slip from under him and  now Hannibal holds all his weight suspended over the staircase in the dark.  The only sound is breathless pants and grunts from Will.  He feels his mind slipping away, the part of him that wants to crawl to Hannibal's arms taking over inch by inch against his will.  Hannibal, sensing the minute change in Will's struggles, drags him back from the edge of the staircase.

Will pants harshly into Hannibal's shoulder as the taller man drags him backwards.  His teeth rub against the fine material and he bears down.  

 "I thought. . ." he breathes, ". . . thought you cared about me."

 Hannibal shifts the shoulder Will is biting on, and presses a hand against the back of Will's head so that he'll bite harder.  The sensation makes Hannibal's breath catch with pleasure.  

 "Is this not caring?" he murmurs softly, "I have taken you into the furthest reach of my care, Will.  Here you and I can dwell together, and there is room enough for the both of us."

 Will breaks into a fresh burst of struggling, but it isn’t in earnest.  Hannibal quickly twists his arms behind his back and bears him facedown onto the carpet right there at the top of the stairs.

 "My care of you will be absolute.  You need that  now."  Hannibal's breath tickles Will's ear and he has the crazy urge to giggle.

 Will closes his eyes and lets his arms go slack, abandoning all pretense of struggle now.  Hannibal's weight above him is so heavenly, so reassuring, it's all he can do to not weep at the comfort he takes in the man's presence.  

 How ironic, the devil feeling heavenly.  

 "Hannibal--" he whispers-

 Hannibal places a finger on Will's lips and bends to kiss the side of his temple.

 

 

Running his hands up Will's sides, Hannibal keeps his mouth at Will's cheek.  His breathing is rougher now, and quickly the slow movements change into harder friction.  Will turns his face away, ashamed that he needs Hannibal so badly.  His mouth forms a small unhappy grimace as he jerks his own hips harder and harder back against Hannibal's.    

 "Will, I'll never abandon you." Hannibal says in response to the desperate movements under him.  "I'll always be here for you, and you'll always belong with me."

 Will arches back unconsciously into Hannibal, the carpet rough and good against his hands.   

 Hannibal moves faster above him now, Will reciprocating.  The staircase yawns a few feet to their side but neither man pays attention.  Hannibal's hands slide to Will's belt and the feeling of them there sends Will into a frenzy of squirming.  The hands are under the waistband of his pants now, fingers darting over skin, feeling every inch.  Will pushes back into Hannibal, glad he can’t see himself mirrored in the other man’s eyes as he moans and writhes.  Hannibal slides Will’s pants and boxers down, exposing the smooth swell of his ass.  Everything is hot touches now, burning hands at Will’s back and searing kisses to his cheek from behind.  No time for slowness anymore; this is Hannibal’s lair.  

 Will’s thighs are shaking ever so slightly, trembling in anticipation of Hannibal’s touch.  The touch doesn’t come right away though, Hannibal is working at his own clothes.  The first thing he removes is his tie, and with a swell of his muscles he lifts Will to a sitting position with his back against the bannister.

With an easy motion, Hannibal loops the tie around Will’s neck and the bannister, holding him in place.  

 “Stay,” he breathes in Will’s ear, knotting the tie against his jumping Adam’s apple.  

Will breathes shallowly as Hannibal’s footsteps retreat down the hall and fade into silence.  

Unable to wait, he shoves a hand down his own pants and grasps the swollen length of his cock, rubbing to try and release some of the pent-up emotion that fills his chest.  Footsteps return, and suddenly out of the darkness Hannibal is back, a small tube in his hand.  He bends swiftly and pulls Will’s hands roughly away from his painfully hard dick, taking over the ministrations himself.  

Will pushes himself hard into the bannister, the tie at his neck providing enough pressure at his throat to mirror the pulsing veins under Hannibal’s hands.  Hannibal pumps Will slowly at first, building pressure quickly and then bending to ghost his lips over the insides of Will’s thighs.  The wetness there makes Will’s hands spring up, and without thought he twines them into Hannibal’s silvery blond hair.  Hannibal smells _so good_.  The scent wafting from him is powerful and elegant yet utterly sexual.  The smell alone makes Will want to beg for unspeakable things to be done to him, to cry out, to be consumed, but for now all he can do is pant hoarsely as Hannibal licks and bites at the shaking softness of his inner thighs.  

 Then without warning the tie is removed and Will is back facedown on the carpet.  Above him Will hears the sniiick of Hannibal’s zipper going down and then the hot weight of his cock is against Will’s ass.  

 As he coats a finger and teases Will’s hole, Hannibal lifts his nose and the sheer ecstasy of Will’s body scent fills him.  His upper lip lifts, baring his top row of teeth slightly.  There it is, the fevered sweetness, the rousing heat, all there for him to enjoy at his leisure.  

Will is moaning, begging with his body for Hannibal's touch.  In his mind he feverishly thinks that if Hannibal will _just touch him_ , then all the madness will go away and he will be sane again.  

Hannibal's hands are at Will's hole now, and the anticipation builds for Will.  He imagines how deep the stretch will be, how tight, how painful.  _Maybe if it hurts enough it'll knock the crazy out of me._ His thighs start to shake harder. 

Then Hannibal presses a slick finger smoothly into the tight muscle, Will’s eyes opening wide at the unfamiliar sensation.  Will claws his way further along the carpet, his thighs chafing, but before he can get far Hannibal settles over his hips heavily.  The heated weight above Will makes him stop moving away and instead he experiments with rocking back onto the finger.  Hannibal smiles sharply, his eyes heavy, and adds another finger.  

This time the stretch is greater, and Will digs his hands hard into the ground.  But after the initial shock the pleasure he gets from rocking back on the fingers is breathtaking.  Every thrust punches a little bit of breath out and his abdomen contracts and expands delightfully.  When Hannibal adds a third finger Will barely notices, so lost is he in the slick, tight sensation.  

 Then the fingers are gone, and Will cries out, missing the feeling.  He twists his head around as far as he can while lying facedown and catches a glimpse of Hannibal, _triumphant._   

Hannibal’s shirt is open, exposing a long tanned line of neck and chest.  The sight of that muscular chest and silvering hair makes more wetness seep down Will’s thighs, and he watches, eyes wide, as Hannibal takes himself in hand and guides his slicked-up cock to Will’s entrance.   Before pushing in, he looks Will directly in the eyes and his tongue goes out ever so slightly to lick those fascinating lips.  Then he slides inside Will, making the fingers feel insignificant in comparison.  Will arches his back hard, facing front again, and now Will feels the true extent to which Hannibal loves him.  

  _“Yes,”_ Will groans helplessly, clutching at anything within reach to help ground himself.  

Then Hannibal starts to move inside Will, everything tight and hot and the feeling making his head spin and his arms go weak.  

 Every thrust is accompanied by a breathless gasp, a possessive sound.  Hannibal’s mouth is on the back of Will’s neck and Will bites down on his own hand to keep from crying out.  Soon though, his resolve fails him and he lets out piercing cries of ecstasy into the stillness of the house. There’s no one around for miles, no one will ever hear these cries. The slickness and heat inside Will is growing uncontrollably, he feels warmth pool deep in his stomach and the sensation claws its way to his brain where it bursts and flowers.  

Hannibal finds Will's prostate then, and Will's eyes fly open and he bites his lips hard enough to draw blood.  His cries are music to Hannibal's ears.

 Will knows he’ll never be able to let go of this feeling.  No matter what Hannibal does or what happens in the future he’ll always come running back.  Hannibal possesses him now, body and soul.  

As if Hannibal can see into his mind, he grips Will’s hips tighter and changes his angle of thrusting, hitting Will’s prostate consistently now.  The intense sweetness pushes Will over the edge, and with a cry of pleasure (or is it anguish?) he comes hard against the rough carpet.  The fibers provide more friction for his cock and he rubs into it, spilling everywhere as Hannibal continues to move inside him.  

 Hannibal hasn’t come yet though.  He keeps moving inside Will, slower but infinitely deeper now.  Will is utterly spent, his limbs weak and hair tousled.  Hannibal seems to be trying to reach some hidden depth in Will that no one, not even Will himself knows exists.  Hannibal knows he will be the first to reach this spot in Will’s soul, and the thought flutters in his mind pleasurably.  His eyes are dark, and he closes them reverently.  

 As Hannibal continues moving, Will’s nipples rub harder against the carpet and the pleasure shoots through his chest and settles comfortably in the little moans that escape his throat.  He’s getting hard again, but hard in a deep slow way.  His eyelids are heavy, and every inch of him throbs in anticipation of Hannibal’s climax.  Hannibal lowers himself to lie flat on top of Will, still thrusting deeply, and noses through the curly hair at the back of his neck.  His tongue swipes over Will’s neck, warm and heavy, and the wetness is reciprocated between Will’s legs.  

 Then Hannibal feels the pulse in Will’s throat, that throbbing, life-giving blood that sweeps just below the surface, and his eyes burst open in ecstasy.  The thrusts increase in speed, Will’s breath coming out in little gasps, and then with all the heavy, bursting sweetness of a ripe fruit in the heat of summer Hannibal comes inside Will, the seed filling Will to his very core and trickling warmly back down his shaking thighs.  

As he mouths hard at Will's neck, Hannibal whispers into the hot jugular:

“I’ll never hurt you.”  

 

_(In the silence of a far-away drawer, a linoleum knife waits.)_

He pulls out then, his cock sliding in the wet, sticky mess between Will's legs.  

Hannibal stands smoothly and helps Will up.  Supporting Will easily against his side, he pulls the younger man off the the floor and down to the last door on the right.  It's a bedroom, draped in maroon and cream.  Will bites his lips, closing his eyes.  Hannibal deposits him gently on the bed, then slides in after him.  

Hannibal shifts so that they can both lie on their sides, Hannibal behind.  Hannibal raises Will’s leg slightly with his own and easily enters him again, the slick heat enveloping his length and drawing little contractions from Will.  Will has never felt so full, so bursting.  Hannibal leaves himself inside WIll, barely moving, and in that position he lulls Will to sleep.

 Will feels a hot tear slide down his cheek as sleep draws nearer.

 

He knows with utter certainty that he hasn’t, and now never will, escape Hannibal’s Labyrinth.

  
  
  



End file.
